Other Than Me
by MoodyBleu
Summary: Set 2 years after WWRY. Ally escapes her troubled home, falls into the Heartbreak Hotel, and finds her brother, Galileo.
1. Chapter 1

"Other Than Me"-Part 1  
---------------------------  
_"Loser!" _

_"Lesbian!"_

_"Go step in a cyber-cage and get a life! A virtual one, actually!"_

I threw myself down on the bed after another long, disastrous day at school, where I wasn't welcome. Mainly because of my individuality. I didn't live in a world where others my age were able to express their feelings, and that's why I never felt welcome. We weren't able to dress differently, write and sing our own songs, or even ask to cry on someone's shoulder after a hard day. I was stuck in a world where everyone acted like they were high on drugs.

Everyone wore the same, bright and shiny plastic outfits, shared the same ideas, listened to the same music, downloaded the same items, and had the same expressions on their face…a crappy grin that looked as if it had been glued on because of bad teeth. I for one never understood what that phrase even meant. Getting "high on drugs". It was basically something my brother would know, since he's the expert on defining phrases for me. Actually, my "late" brother, Gordon. The mis-understood genius.

Gordon was okay to hang around with…considering that he was more different than those "GaGa" geeky gonzo people. He was a bit strange to everyone on Planet Mall...even to my parents. He would spout out these sayings and these "words" all day and night for some weird reason; it was almost like a disease. I always asked him what it meant, and Gordon would get nervous, form that stutter of his and give me some sort of excuse, claiming that it was all in his head, that his mind was making him say these things. It was pretty funny actually, to have him spout out these phrases at any time. Even during dinner, he would say some sort of lyric to an unknown song after he was asked to pass the downloaded bread basket or salt.

Other than that, he was okay…for someone who was a bit older than me. He would be a bit embarrassing sometimes when my circle of friends would see me talking to him before classes or if he came over to me during lunch or a free period. It bugged me for a while, but other than that, I didn't really care. He was my brother, and he was my only friend. I just remember hearing about his "death" like it was just a dream. The SP's were going through his things one night while I tried to listen to some stupid GaGa song on my laptop to ignore the thrashing and banging inside his room. It was a mess anyway, so it didn't really matter how much the pile of illegally downloaded crap on the floor increased. When they finished, my mother came in, sat down next to me and told me, without any emotion, that Gordon was dead. He had gotten into a fight with some Boyzone boys and was stabbed.

A tearful whimper escaped my mouth as I rolled over onto my back, replaying what they had said only a year ago today. Tears were streaming down my face like rain, streaking my face. I missed him. I know I shouldn't be missing him, but I did. Gordon was my rock, and my best friend. I was really angry at my parents and the rest of the world for what was going on. They just didn't understand how fragile I had become. I lifted up my bed mattress and pulled out a small, rectangular razor blade that I kept hidden from my parents.

They didn't know about my habits, and I didn't want them to know either way. It seemed better that way. The blade was my only friend, and sometimes an enemy. It was able to help my skin tear up instead of having me cry. That was the only point. As I rolled up the sleeves of my black hoodie, I heard someone pounding on my door heavily like they were going to crash through the wood. My parents were screaming for them to stop, begging them to take mercy.

"She's all we have left! You can't take her after you've taken away our son! You can't do this!" She screamed.

My eyes rose as I clutched the blade in the palm of my hands.

"I thought he was stabbed," I thought to myself.

The SP's banged on my door again, yelling that I was being charged for not following the rules: for not acting like everyone else, for not being a Gaga kid, and for trying to blackmail an employee at Globalsoft-which was such bollocks in my opinion. You are to appear in front of your door on our count, or else!" One of them yelled while my mother continued to cry.

I lifted up my bedroom window and slid outside, running as fast as I could down the dark streets without anything on my back except my black hoodie. My palm seared in pain, but I didn't really care. I didn't want to end up like my brother. As much as I wanted to join him in peace, I didn't want to end up like him: a rebel. I had finally reached a dead end a half hour later and gasped heavily after my run.

I slowly sat down to the ground and cried heavily for as long as I needed to. When I stared to place my head in my hands, I felt something wet on my forehead and realized that my palm had a deep laceration from the razor blade. I lifted up my palm and saw a deep, heavy line of blood that stretched across from the lower part of my pinkie finger to the thumb. I turned away after noticing the sight of red and instantly felt sick. I was only used to seeing thin lines on my arms and wrists, and the fact that the blade went too deep started to scare me to death. I was about to find a place to sit until I tripped over something hard and fell into this bright hole. I tried to grab onto something for support, but I somehow lost my balance and fell back first towards the bottom.

The back of my head started to feel heavy and my ears started to ring as I stared up at the hole. Nothing felt broken, but before I could temporarily pass out, I could've sworn that I saw a few people stare down at me in confusion and some worry. The last thing I had seen was someone with dark, jet-black hair who looked just like my brother. Maybe I was seeing things...

(To be continued...)


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Hours later, I felt a bright light sting my eyes, and I started to squint and get my vision re-focused while various figures spoke.

"She's a spy," One figure whispered.  
"She's not a bloody spy! She was runnin' away!" Another exclaimed as I listened closely to their hushed conversation.  
"Well, she could've been used as bait by the SP's and..."

"Didn't you hear your friend the first time? I fuckin' ran away," I heard myself mutter out angrily, almost to the point where I was either nervous or a thousand percent pissed off.

The two girls glanced over at each other, embarrassed that I heard them, and made their way over towards my side as I slowly sat up from the ground. One girl had blond, almost frizzy hair along with some various colored streaks in each strand that almost matched her heavy make-up. Her outfit looked like she had been in a fight with her ripped stockings and a corset, but I wasn't sure. The other had this wild purple hair that sprouted two pigtails and a mess of some braids, along with the same corset, but in a heavy crimson color with a matching skirt and shoes, and weird jewelry.

"You alright? Anything broken?" The blond asked calmly while the girl with purple hair rolled her eyes after hearing that question.  
"Well...my hand is throbbing in pain, and my head feels like shit. Other than that, I'm just brilliant," I answered truthfully with a hint of sarcasm.  
"Join the club," the other girl muttered.  
"Oi! Give 'er some air, will you? And be nice," The blond yelled.  
"If there is such a thing as being 'nice'," The other replied back.

I rubbed my eyes and noticed that the wound on the palm of my hand had dried up from all the bleeding, but still ached and throbbed intensely.

"Don't worry. Bob'll have a look at it when he's done repairing the lights. To make sure it's not as bad as it looks," the blond replied, lightly touching my hand.

I jerked away slightly and struggled to stand up without falling on my face again. She grabbed my shoulders and told me to take it easy, without having another spill. I slowly sat back down in the dirt and sighed, not knowing what to say or do without causing any problems.

"How is she?" Someone asked, walking over to them as I continued to rub my eyes.  
"See for yourself, Gaz," the girl with purple hair answered, crossing her shoulders and glaring at me. It didn't sound good.  
I heard him walk over and suddenly felt his gaze as he knelt down in front of me.  
"You okay?" He asked calmly.  
"You're the second person who's asked me that already," I muttered, locking eyes with his worried gaze. That's when I saw him...in his black leather jacket, a grayish shirt and jeans, and the same jet-black hair. It had to be him! We both raised our eyes nervously.

"Al...Ally?" He asked nervously, while both girls stood behind him in shock.  
My lips started to tremble as well as my voice when I answered, "Hey, Gordon."  
"Why's she callin' you Gordon? What kind of name is that!" The purple haired girl asked almost angrily.  
"Babe, its okay," Gordon answered, moving over towards my side, "she's my sister."  
"Your what!"  
"His sister!" The blond replied, "You know...the opposite of a brother is..."  
"I know what it means, Meat! I'm not stupid!"

Gordon and I both stared at each other in amazement for a while, making it seem like an eternity. I suddenly turned away and lowered my head while both girls started to argue.

"What's wrong?" Gordon asked.  
I suddenly started to sob in front of him and those girls, and couldn't stop. He gently wrapped an arm around me as I continued. A ton of nervous emotions were rushing through my mind, but I just couldn't believe that he was here, almost untouched, and in front of my eyes. It was just too surreal for me...

(To be continued…)


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

"I can't believe you're here," I said to him hours later in a small, spare room in the tunnel, which was called The Heartbreak Hotel. It had been damaged by the SP's before the uprising, and was still in the middle of being fully repaired for a concert.  
"Of course I'm here. What made you think that I wasn't?" He asked, handing me a bottle of water.  
"I don't know. Mom told me that...you were killed by some of those Boyzone kids in a fight. And I believed her in some weird way."

Gordon shook his head and replied, "She has such a great hobby for lying to our faces."  
"Yeah. Exactly."

After some silence, I asked him why that girl kept calling him "Gaz".

"Remember when I wanted to be called 'Galileo' instead of my real name?"  
"How can I forget? Mom smacked you so hard and actually almost killed you when you told her."  
He smirked and replied, "Yeah, I know. But, being called 'Galileo' or 'Gaz' now just seems better to her and the rest of the Bohemians now than my real name. We all go by different names instead of our real ones. It's more civil and enjoyable that way."  
"So...I'm going to have to call you Galileo now?"  
"'Fraid so. You're going to need a new name later on so..."

I nodded and nervously took a sip from the water bottle, letting the cool, stale liquid slide down my already burning throat, which still hurt from the crying.

"Any better now?"

I nodded again and handed the water bottle back to him. He suddenly grabbed my wrist and I winced slightly. Gordon/Gaz saw that one of my hoodie sleeves were torn and it revealed a scar under my wrist from a previous razor blade cut, which was still in the process of healing.

"This wasn't from before...was it?"  
"Not really," I answered, rolling up my sleeves to show him the pattern of scars, new and old, on my arms...not including the mishap with my palm.  
"Most of these count the days I've been suffering after you left. Mom doesn't know," I replied, pushing my sleeves down, "she couldn't even care less. Never did anyway."

He sighed and looked down at the floor while I turned away again, thinking that I either scared or disappointed him.

"I'm sorry," I replied as he continued to look down.  
"I didn't think you'd be in the same situation as me," he muttered.  
I shrugged and said, "It happens, I guess."

(To be continued...)


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

I awoke to the hammering sounds of some sort of weapon, and immediately froze in my tracks. It was coming from inside the walls, and I couldn't figure out where to hide...god forbid if the SP's would find me again. Suddenly, the blond from hours ago, Meat, popped her head into the room and briefly smiled at me.

"What was that?" I asked nervously.  
"Bob and the rest of us were testing out some tools. For fixin' and stuff," she answered. Meat then entered the room and placed some articles of clothing on the mattress.  
"They should be your size. We got some other stuff in the back if it doesn't suit you."  
I shrugged and stared down at what was placed in front of me: a tan, tight-fitting blazer without the sleeves, ripped jeans with lace and patches down on each side, a sash, purple wrist bands and some shoes that laced up to the knee.  
"Combat boots. It's a must have among us crazies," she replied.  
"I don't think you're crazy," I said.

Meat laughed and said, "Only an expression. We found that phrase from text that was used in the early two thousands..."  
"What's a text?"  
She rolled her eyes and replied, "You gotta lot to learn, girlie. I'm not just sayin' it to be mean. I'm really dead serious 'bout it."  
Meat explained to me that the texts were like the e-mails we read online, but you could read the words in ink and on paper. They were in temporary storage until the repairs were done, but I could look at them whenever I needed to.

Hours later, I checked my new Bohemian identity in a cracked mirror, and actually liked how I looked. Everything did fit, and I couldn't believe how great my hair looked when it wasn't pulled back tightly in a braid. One girl, I think it was Cheeky, wanted to dye my hair, but I only opted for these silver hair clip things called extensions, which looked like highlights but with a small clip. I was about to put on some make-up when the other girl, Scaramouche, came in with a stern look on her face.

"So you're Gaz's sister?" She asked.  
"Um...yeah," I replied nervously.  
"He never said anythin' 'bout you to any of us."  
I shrugged and said, "Maybe he just forgot."  
"Maybe. But I just hope you're not pullin' anything."

I looked back at her as she continued to glare at me. Before I could say anything else, she angrily got up to my face.  
"If I hear that you are lyin' and you hurt my boyfriend's guts...I'll do the same. Except it'll be worse."  
"Why're you threatening me?" I whispered nervously.  
"Oh it's not a threat. Consider it a warnin'. That's all."

I glared back at Scaramouche and replied, "I don't know where you're getting these ideas from, but I'm not a liar...or a fake. I'm just like everyone else here: misunderstood, confused, and wanting refuge. You, on the other hand, should adjust your snippy attitude before it gets worse."  
Scaramouche stopped and nodded, letting my words sink into her skull. All I was doing was making a point, whether she understood that or not. Before she could walk out, she glanced back at me and replied, "I'm watching you. Remember that."

I nodded and looked down, listening to her footsteps as she walked out. I didn't know whether to cry or scream back at her, but I just couldn't believe that I might be hated and misjudged all over again.

(To be continued...)


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5

I sat down in front of the mirror and started to put some make-up on until I heard footsteps from behind me. Thinking it was her again, I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"Look, if you're here to give me another warning, you can justshut it right..."

I turned and saw another Bohemian, who looked like he was my age and could possibly be my brother's long lost twin...even though he had shortish, blond hair. He had some tattoos on each arm and ripped clothing, and these intense green eyes.

"Um...I was gonna say 'hi' and all, but guess that's outta the question," he replied  
I blushed slightly and apologized.  
"I thought you were someone else," I muttered.  
"Who would that be?"  
"It's not important right now. I don't feel like naming names."

He nodded and walked closer to me.  
"You must be the Dreamer's little sis," he said.  
I rolled my eyes and said, "Word sure travels fast, huh?"  
"Pretty much. It's a small to medium sized group of people, so it does manage to travel 'round. You know...without the internet."  
"Guess so."

After a brief silence, he cleared his throat and asked for my name.

"The girl formally known as Ally Jones. But for now, Meat keeps calling me 'Jimi'."  
It was true. She didn't know which name to give me. Everyone had these unique names instead of "Josie" or some other stupid name that had four E's and I's.  
He held out his hand and said that his name was Layne.  
"I know...not exactly a great name. It's better than what I used to be called at home."  
"What was that?"  
"Martin."

We both shuddered and laughed at the same time.

"I gotta go help Bob with some repairs. See you around?" Layne asked.  
I nodded and replied, "Sure."

(To be continued...)


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

As I walked down the stairs to look for my brother, the rest of the Bohemians caught a glimpse at the new figure (me, of course) and stopped to stare at me for what seemed like an eternity.  
A few guys whispered and whistled, while the girls admired my new style and smacked some of their boyfriends for whistling. I wasn't used to getting this type of attention for dressing up in costume. Normally, if I had worn something like this to school, I would be ridiculed non-stop by everyone. This was much better than dressing up in the same plastic, neon-colored GaGa clothing you'd see all the time. Before I could fully become ashamed and hide, my brother placed an arm around me and smiled.

"I always knew my sister had taste. Just like me," he said, grinning.  
"You can thank Meat for that. She's the one who picked it out and helped with the whole get-up," I replied, grinning back at him.  
"She give you a new name yet?"  
"She keeps calling me 'Jimi', but I haven't seen a list of names yet."  
"How 'bout Janis?"  
"No. I like Jimi better," Meat said as she approached us, "She looks like a Jimi."  
"So...your mind's made up then? Ally's now...Jimi?"  
"If it's cool with her. Just don't let 'er lose it."

I nodded and said, "I'm Jimi. Nice to meet you."  
-------------------------

There was this dream I had for weeks now...that I was being chased by the police. We were all on the run: Layne, my brother, myself, and the rest of the Bohemians. Every time I would try to escape, there would be puddles of blood everywhere along with a nameless body. After all the running around, I collapsed and tried to call for help, but my throat was closed and my mouth wouldn't open. One masked SP would see me and raise his weapon up at me...but as I tried to block him, my hands and arms were all full of blood...  
-----------------------------------------  
"SHIT!"

I screamed and jolted up from the mattress I continued to sleep on for five weeks. I gasped heavily and closed my eyes, realizing that it was only another stupid dream. I don't know whether it was from one of my brother's stories on how he escaped (twice) from the police and the brainwashing, but I still kept on having these freaky nightmares. All I wanted to do was get a good night's sleep, but it was no use anyway. My already worried mind was making me paranoid. I slowly got up and walked out of the room, hoping that I would be able to tire myself out from all the walking around I was about to do. I didn't want to bother Galileo since his overprotective (not to mention extremely bitchy) girlfriend would give me another one of those demonic glares.

As I walked around, I noticed an old looking wooden thing that looked like a huge storage chest with a standing stool, but it had these white and black buttons that were dusty and almost chipped. Pieces of paper with some markings were placed on top of it, and I looked at it slowly. The words were poetic but I didn't know what to make of it. I slowly sat down on the stool and pressed one of the buttons...this almost low pinging sound came out from inside, echoing the center of the room. I pressed down on another one, and it went a bit higher.  
I looked at the paper and noticed that it was a different type of text. It was a sheet of something with a bunch of symbols and words that were in between or above and below the lines.

"You play?"

I turned quickly and saw the blond, Layne, leaning against the wall and watching me.

"Don't know," I said, "Never tried and don't know what it is."  
"We think it's one of the banned instruments from long ago. One of the primary ones, I think."  
"You know what it's called?" I asked as he walked over to me.  
Layne shrugged and replied, "We've given it a bunch of names, but your brother thinks it's a prehistoric computer without an electric cable or a screen."  
I shook my head and muttered, "My brother."

He looked at me with those green eyes and sat down next to me.  
"I suddenly feel that there's some hatred going on," Layne said.  
"Not against him...but his chick."  
"Scaramouche? Yeah, she does seem like an arrogant bitch..."  
"Ah! Someone agrees with me! Thank you!"  
"But she's not all that bad if you ever get the chance."  
"Well lately, she hasn't given me the chance. She thinks that I'm making everything up."

"She's always been that way from what I understand. Ever since she met Gaz she's been the total nutcase...worrying about who's the spy, the traitor, or the saint. But she's not at all bad once you get used to her mucking around and screaming her head off."

I nodded and replied, "I guess your right."

(To be continued...)


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Days later, I was fitting in with the Bohemians and enjoying their company, even when my brother's girlfriend was nearly frustrated by my presence. I had been helping Bob with the repairs almost the entire time and studying some of the texts on my own and with Meat. I had mentioned to her the piece of paper that I had found near something called a "piano", which had all the symbols on a bunch of lines.

"It's called 'sheet music', I think," Meat replied, "My boyfriend, god rest him, knew a lot about them, and I'm sure your brother might know about these texts as well."

I leafed through a beginners guide to sheet music and learned that it was what the legends from long ago studied for future performances along with their so-called "band-members" in order to keep things in shape. The musicians would also jot down "notes" if they had an ongoing beat floating in their mind, and would form "lyrics" to the songs, play on their instruments, and so on. The beat thing sort of interested me a bit considering that Gordon...um, Galileo actually would always spout out these words that made no sense to any of us. But now I knew that some of the songs on the sheet music could have been the same songs my brother used to say all the time.

"There's a bunch of other history 'bout some sort of scale where it matches the way you play the instruments, but I haven't seen one yet," Meat said as I continued to look over a piece of music at the piano and tinker around with the keys. I was about to say something when I heard two people yelling from around the corner.

"Oh, bugger. Not those two again."  
When I heard her mention "those two", it had to have been my brother and Scaramouche with another round of arguments.  
I poked my head out, and saw Scaramouche say something angrily to my brother while he slightly lowered his head and tried to calmly solve the situation.  
"What's going on?" I asked.  
The two of them stopped and stared at me.  
"Piss off, you. It's between me an' him," Scaramouche replied nastily.  
"Hey. Don't tell her to piss off," my brother said.  
"Well, she should at least stay the hell outta what we're tryin' to figure out here! Ever since she arrived, she's been nothin' but trouble!"

I stared at her in shock.  
"All I've been doing was help out with the repairs and studying the texts..." I replied slowly.  
"And you've been hangin' 'round him like a leech."  
"He's my brother! What else am I supposed to do? Just leave him alone with someone who still has something stuck up her ass just because she doesn't have any relatives who even care!"  
I suddenly found myself on the floor again with a part of my face in pain from her punch. She wanted to lurch forward and continue, but my brother had restrained her in case she was really about to lose it.  
"Just get outta my face! You don't know me, you little stupid cunt!" Scaramouche yelled while she struggled to get loose.  
I slowly got up, stumbled down the hall and headed into my room, where I automatically felt hated again.  
----------------------  
Hours later, I glanced in the mirror and noticed a huge bruise on my cheek from where I was punched and winced at the throbbing pain. Her comments were still echoing in my mind. And she called me a "cunt". Even when I didn't know what it meant, the labeled phrase still hurt and it was worse than being called a "lesbian" even when I wasn't. I didn't know whether to cry or head back out to find her and punch Scaramouche back, but I just sat still in my room for a long few minutes with my eyes closed until I headed out to where the "piano" stood. I sat down in front of the keys, glanced at the "music notes" and words and quietly sung a few phrases to myself while I tinkered with the keys:

_"I'm surrounded by liars/ everywhere I turn  
I'm surrounded by imposters/ everywhere I turn  
I'm surrounded by identity crisis/ everywhere I turn  
Am I the only one who noticed?  
I can't be the only one who's learned...  
I don't want to be  
Anything other than what I've been trying to be lately  
All I have to do  
Is think of me and I have peace of mind  
I'm tired of looking 'round rooms  
Wondering what I've got to do  
Or who I'm supposed to be  
I don't want to be anything other than me..."_

I suddenly stopped and stared at the keys with numbness. I didn't know at that point whether to feel accomplished or just plain stupid, but I instantly had a sick feeling and passed out in someone's arms and closed my eyes again.

(To be continued...)


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

I woke up on the mattress in my room and locked my eyes with someone else's greens. Before I could jump up, I noticed that it was Layne and felt awave of relief.

"I thought you were dead," he whispered, moving in closer.  
"I think there's a difference between passing out and dying," I muttered loudly.  
"And thankfully, you didn't do the second choice."

I rolled my eyes and closed them tightly for a second.

"What were you doing in there anyway? Despite the fact that you looked really upset," he asked.  
I shook my head and replied, "It's not important."  
"Well, you can't hold it in forever."  
He then noticed the bruise and instantly got worried.  
"Was it your brother?" He asked, moving in closer to examine it.  
"His girlfriend, actually," I muttered, "all because I said something I probably shouldn't have said. But then again, she did call me something else that she shouldn't have said."

"A slut?"  
"Um...more like a cunt, actually."  
Layne nodded and replied, "I've been called worse things than that. Then again, I'm not a woman so I wouldn't know what phrase would be considered 'hurtful' or emotionally upsetting."  
I sighed and replied, "I don't understand why I'm being hated so much. I've been trying to fit in for weeks and I still feel like I'm lost in a crowd of more GaGa kids."

As I placed my head down in my hands, he focused on me and replied, "I don't hate you."  
"Thanks," Ireplied sarcastically, assuming that he wasn't serious.  
"No. I mean it. I sort of feel like...we're connected in some weird way. Even when we haven't seen or spoken to each other often since we're running around doin' different things. But we have a connection among us Bohemians. We're both different from everyone else, but...we're compassionate at the same time."

We both sat in silence for a while until I mentioned that I never met anyone who had the nerve to understand me up front and lend me their shoulder to cry on...except my brother but this was different. This was someone I've never met who didn't ridicule me...this was someone who actually gave a damn. It wasn't until the hours passed that I found myself facing him in total silence in the warm darkness of night on our sides and made out until we fell into a comforting sleep.

(To be continued...)


	9. Chapter 9

Part 9

I remembered when I first started cutting. I always hated the sight of blood or open cuts--basically anything where a blade or needle would meet the skin and draw a deep red line. But since my brother and I were faced with biting words of hate each day, I really didn't have a choice. I was always given the cold shoulder at school and at home by my mother, so the razor-blade became the empty shoulder to cry on when no one else was around. When I learned about my brother's supposed death years before I ran and found him again, the wounds increased by the day. My mother claimed at one point that I was already turning into my brother...a strange and desolate human being who never belonged.

After I arrived at the Heartbreak, I still didn't feel like I belonged around anyone, considering that I still had some insecurities hidden deep down and that I longed to cling to my brother's shoulder like an annoying younger sibling, but couldn't since Scaramouche had already taken the position as his clingy, ultra-bitchy girlfriend. But I was slowly starting to adjust as time progressed. I practiced the songs on the piano each day when I had the time, helped the Bohemians with the repairs, and I didn't need my brother for support and guidance like I used to.

I had Layne. Layne was an interesting person to be around since we still didn't know each other very well. But at one point during the day when we weren't busy, we would rummage through the huge bins and boxes that were placed and scan the fake stories with enjoyment. We even discussed which tale was worth reading. He decided to read some story about a young wizard who had a mark on his forehead and went to a school for wizards. Layne mentioned that one of the Bohemians had read it before him and claimed that one of the characters looked a bit like him, which sounded pretty funny to me but it agitated the hell out of him.  
---------------------------------------  
(One night)

"Got enough room here for one more?"

I looked up at Layne and nodded, moving over on the mattress so that he could lie down and place his head on my lap.  
"Rough few hours?" I asked, placing my hand on his forehead lightly.  
"If I see one more slat that we need to fix, I'm gonna take one of 'em and bash it 'cross the back of Bob's head," Layne answered sarcastically, sighing slowly.  
"That bad, then?" I asked.  
"Not really. I just can't stand lookin' at those flat things for the floor of the stage. It's like, slat after slat..."  
"But it's almost done, yeah?"  
Layne shrugged and took a look at my scarred wrist.

"What happened there?" He asked, touching it lightly.  
"A battle wound scar," I muttered.  
"Bollocks. It's too deep a scar. You're…or were... a cutter. Supposedly."  
I stared up at the ceiling and muttered a "supposedly" right back.

"Problems on the surface? You know, before you arrived?"  
"That...and a million other things. But, my mom made up a vicious lie about my brother, the day he was caught outside of school. She said that he got killed by some Boyzone boys and I actually believed her. That's when it got worse."  
"Mothers," he replied, shaking his head, "but you're fine now, right?"  
I shrugged and looked away briefly at the hallway, where my brother was watching me and Layne in silence and utter confusion.

(To be continued...)


	10. Chapter 10

Part 10

(The next day)

"What were you doing with Layne last night?"  
I looked up at my brother from the piano as he stared at me.

"Nothing. We were just talking," I said.  
"You sure? Because from what I saw, you two seemed pretty deep in thought."  
"We were just talking, Gaz. It wasn't anything serious, okay?" I replied calmly, trying to make the situation easier.

"If you were just talking, then why was he in your room with his head on your lap?"  
"Gaz, come on..."  
"Don't tell me to come on! You're too young to be around a Bohemian like Layne..."  
"And you're too neurotic to be around a chick like Scaramouche!"

My brother's eyes widened and he began to stare at me silently in shock.

"Okay...that was a bit harsh," he muttered.  
"It's harsh, but it is true. Layne's been the only person who actually listens to me more than anyone else...including you."  
"Jimi, I know we haven't had time to do any counseling. But..."  
"But nothing! I'm sick of being given the 'run-around', so to speak. And I'm sick of being avoided by another family member who used to care about me."  
"Wait a minute! I care!"

My eyes started to water as I got angrier.  
"Oh yeah, you care! You care more about that bitch than you do about the sibling you left behind when you were caught! The sibling who had to fend for herself and..."

I quickly ran past him and into the hall, letting more tears flow down my face as I finally stumbled into my room and continued to sob heavily without having a shoulder to cry on. I was feeling alone and confused again, which had become all too familiar for me again. I started to become numb when all of the crying had commenced, and attempted to find something sharp to scrape my skin on, but couldn't.

As I walked out into the hall, I stepped on something that felt like a tool. I bent down and noticed that it was some sort of knife that looked incredibly thin but sharp. I picked it off of the ground, stepped into my room and huddled in the corner where the knife made contact with one of the unhealed scars on my wrist.  
---------------------------------------------------  
(Hours later: Layne's POV)

I fiddled with the chained bracelet in my pocket as I walked down the halls after another long couple of hours of concert prep. I didn't know whether Jimi was into wearing jewelry or not, and didn't know if she would like the small trinket. Of the few short weeks that I've gotten to know her, I could see that we definitely clicked. We both had an interest for books and we were slowly starting to research the different groups of long ago and the origins of our musician names. It felt great to have someone to talk to, yet I always wished I could do more for her.

Jimi had mentioned that she wanted to remain close to her brother, Galileo, but didn't want to get in the way. I knew what that felt like...to be in dire need of some comfort. I never had any older brothers or sisters...let alone any family members who cared. That was the way of the world, I guess. You were either perfect or popular, or you were an outsider who had to be tormented every single day. We were all like that before we arrived, I guess.

As I started to approach the room, I heard a soft moan from inside, followed by a hint of a whimper. I peeked through the room and saw Jimi huddled in a corner with her wrists and palms covered in blood. I ran in and bent down in front of her face, which was flushed and covered with so many tears.

"I screwed up," Jimi muttered in half a sob, "I screwed up."

I lightly touched her arm as she tried to lift it up to her head. I didn't want to see her face covered in blood, too. I suddenly grabbed some of the sheets that were on the mattress and placed them around her hands, not wanting to see any more of it. It was starting to scare me, and I didn't want to make a scene by panicking and going completely insane. The only thing I could do was take her down to a washroom where Bob was and hopefully fix things there.

(To be continued...)


	11. Chapter 11

Part 11

(Back to Jimi's POV)

I stared down at my newly bandaged wrists while my tear stained eyes continued to burn. My throat became dry and hot again, and I could barely speak for a few moments...maybe more. Layne was asleep on the right side of the huge cot that had been placed in Bob's ward in case anyone was sick. Bob had so many of them, and it was still unknown to me how he managed to get all of them into the Heartbreak, let alone find them.

My head and eyes were still throbbing slowly with some rhythm. My wrists and palms were still in pain, and the knife I used was gone. Layne had probably trashed it somewhere when he brought me down to where Bob was. Or maybe he buried it in the dirt when I wasn't looking...I don't know. All I knew was that a part of me felt incredibly stupid for pulling that sort of stunt; but I just didn't know what else to think anymore.

I slowly laid the right side of my body back onto the cot and squinted as it creaked each time I moved. Layne suddenly moved next to my side and asked me how I was, if I had felt any better or worse.

"What do you think?" I whispered.  
"I can't tell with all the sarcasm you have buried inside," Layne answered, which caused me to turn over and face him.  
"What makes you think I have...sarcasm?"  
"You must've inherited it from Scaramouche."  
"Doubt it. I seriously doubt it."

He touched a part of my cheek and said that those last hours scared the living shit out of him.  
"I mean, I've heard stories about the other Bohemians here getting incredibly mental and going too far aside from the cutting, but that was rough," Layne said.  
"Yeah, but at least I wasn't lying in a pool of my own blood," I replied, which didn't sound right at all.  
"Don't say that. Seriously. Just don't say that," he said.  
"I'm sorry."  
"I know. But just don't say that again."

I heard once from Meat that the reason he ran was because his mother was also accused of rebellion, and had killed herself moments before she could be taken into custody. He was only a kid at that time, but when he found out about her death years later, it caused him to worry on the inside about almost everything.

We fell asleep moments later without a word, and more silence surrounded us until Bob shoved the both of us out of his ward and we had to share the same mattress in my room. That was about it, and I hoped that his anger wasn't going to stay.

(To be continued...)


	12. Chapter 12

(Notes: I forgot to mention in the beginning of this story like every other fan ficauthor that I don't own anyone. Sorry if I forgot to mention it.)  
------------------------------

Part 12

Days after the incident, I ended up spending more time with Layne. We would talk about random things, stare up at the ceilings on our backs in each others rooms, or tinker around the piano even when I was supposed to practice. We neverspoke about what had happened that night, and it wasn't even a discussion.Other than that, it felt very comforting to be around Layne. Atleast he was a guy that cared. The ones on the surface wouldn't bother talking to me...why would they? They liked theditzy Teen Queens with their stupid neon colors and what not.  
No one else had even spoken about us which was fine by me. I don't think it really mattered to the Bohemiansas far as who was with who. Everyone seemed to respect each other, and that was the way of their world, I guess.

-----------------------------------

"Can I talk to you for a sec? Privately?" My brother asked.

"What's to talk about?" I muttered, lowering the cover on the piano and staring at the sheet music. "I seriously think there's no point anymore."  
"But I think there's a lot that we haven't said to each other yet," my brother replied.  
I stared up at Gaz from the piano and gave him a blank gaze for what seemed like minutes. He didn't seem angry or anything, so I didn't know what to expect.

"Where's your girlfriend?" I asked, looking behind him.  
"She's doing some prep work with the rest of the Bohemians. Could we just talk though? Since we both have the time?"  
I could see that he was starting to get a bit emotional so I muttered "fine" and moved over on the piano bench, feeling my brother glance at me each time as I kept glancing down at my feet.

"It's been a while since we had a small chat. A heart to heart as they say," he muttered.  
I shrugged and replied, "Yeah I know."  
"You been okay?" He asked.

I shrugged again and said that I've been doing just fine...aside from my one-time breakdown and my spending more time with Layne. I heard him move closer to my side and felt him staring at me again, which raised my nerves a bit.

"Look...I just want you to know that...what you said to me the last time was uncalled for in a way," he stammered.

I continued to shrug like it was some sort of bad habit and continued to listen to him.

"I'm putting those comments of yours aside...because I know that it wasn't easy for you when I disappeared and you thought that something else had happened to me."  
"Well," I muttered, turning towards him, "it wasn't. Living alone like that and being verbally assaulted every day..."  
"I know. But...you need to learn to be tough around here. You need to know...that you can't just cling to your brother all the time..."

I angrily got up and told him not to say that.

"Don't try to act like the parent and repeat mum and dad. Because I'm sick of it. I'm sick of the lies and I'm sick of being reminded about the future 'cause I don't think I'll make it."  
"Yes you will..." Gaz said.  
"No, I won't. You and I couldn't even survive school, and I couldn't survive everything else. So how else do you expect me to do things on my own?"

I felt the tears form in the corner of my eyes as I continued.

"I still need you. I want my brother back," I said, covering my eyes as I slowly sat back down.

I tried to push him out of the way as he tried to pull me into a hug, but I resisted and felt him wrap his huge arms around me while I rested the side of my face on his shoulder.

(To be continued...)


	13. Chapter 13

Part 13

The SPs barged into my room and dragged me down the stairs, gripping their hands tightly on my already cut and burning arms. I was quickly strapped down onto a cold, metal table while the bright lights above the ceiling blocked my vision as my heart pounded violently in my chest. I tried to look around, but I couldn't see or feel what was going on...until one of the surgeons came into view. He shoved something down my throat and slyly said, "This won't hurt a bit."

------------------------------------------------------

"Jimi, wake up! Jimi!"

I shot up abruptly and almost screamed in Layne's right ear-drum, but he managed to snap me out my nightmare as I gasped heavily in the dark with my eyes still closed.

"You're okay, love," I heard Layne whisper, trying to touch my shock-ridden face. "Just a nightmare, alright? It's just a nightmare."  
"It...seemed too real for me," I muttered in between sobs. "It was like I was about to be murdered on a table while this surgeon was shoving something down my throat."  
"You've heard too many of those damn stories from everyone..."  
"No, I haven't. This was different, Layne."

Suddenly, someone turned on the lights and I saw that it was my brother.

"I heard shrieking from down the hall..."  
"Yeah. I think EVERYONE else in the Hotel did as well," Layne replied.  
"You okay?" Gaz asked, walking over to me.  
"I'm fine. It was just a nightmare," I replied, trying to shake him off.  
"By the sound of that yell, it didn't sound like a nightmare."  
"Sounded more like a murder," Layne said.

"Could you just drop that last comment please?" I asked. "Seriously."

Layne placed his arm around me and apologized.

I then slowly got up and replied, "I need to practice the songs."

"You want us to come with you?" Gaz asked. "You know, just to be safe?"

I shook my head and replied that I didn't need them for the time being.

-----------------------------------------------------

(2 days later)

I walked down the hall in a daze, clutching the sheet music in my right hand, and holding on to the wall with my left. I had been unable to sleep for many nights, and I was too afraid to fall asleep. I was worried that if I did, then the nightmares would come to life and it would be a reality. I knew that Layne and Gaz were worried about me, but I didn't want to make another scene, so I spent most of my sleepless nights practicing the songs and trying to do a technique called "vocalizing", where I had to warm my vocal chords up in order to sing.

"Hard time sleeping?"

I looked up and faced some guy I had never met before who looked like a Bohemian.  
"How'd you guess?" I asked, feeling as if I could trust him.  
"I could tell by the how glassy your eyes are. Your very, sexy eyes."  
"I'm not in the mood for yelling, but I am going to tell you to piss off."  
"Ooh. Very touchy this evening, aren't we? Ever consider getting laid?"

I glared at him and continued to walk down the hall, but kept getting blocked by the mysterious person.

"Not in the mood for games either. So would you mind letting me through?" I asked.  
"One condition though, _Ally_. You and I might have to get introduced...in a different way."

My eyes widened at the sound of my deserted real name. He wasn't a bohemian, that's for sure. He was a spy. An SP, maybe. But how did he know who I was?

Before I could break out into a run and yell for help, he grabbed a hold of my hair, dragged me into another room and threw me down on the floor while he sat on top of me and struggled to rip off some of my clothes. I punched him twice in the face, but he punched me back and continued to grip my neck. He then started to force his tongue down my throat, but I ended up biting down on it until he yelped and jerked back. He suddenly started to punch and choke me hard again, and was about to lose consciousness until someone grabbed his shirt and threw him against the wall.

"Get off of her right now, pig!"  
The guy glanced up at Scaramouche and smiled at her.  
"You want to play rough, too, eh?" He asked, walking over to her.  
She suddenly punched him in the jaw and grabbed him by the shirt.  
"You better go back to where you belong or else I'll follow you down and finish you and your stupid friends off. Got it, mate?"

Hours later, I came to and saw Scaramouche pour some cold liquid on a washcloth and press down on my head.

"He's gone now. You don't have to worry 'bout him," she said.

I traced my fingers to where he hurt me and felt something loose on the back of my neck. I lifted it off and saw a small black chip that started to gain some static until she grabbed it from my hand, yell some obscenities into it, and smash it on the floor with her boot.

"You don't have to worry 'bout that, either. Just take a load off, as they used to say."

I glanced at her and managed to say, "I guess I should...apologize..."

"Nah. That's my job. I'm sorry for doubting you. Usually I'm not good with apologies, but it needed to be said."

I closed my eyes until I heard more footsteps enter the room. I opened them again and saw Layne move over to my side.

"Be careful. I'm still in a lot of pain, you know?"  
Layne nodded and lightly kissed my cheek.

"Scared you again, huh?" I asked.

"I'm just glad the pig didn't kill you," Layne replied, placing a comforting arm around me.  
"I told you the nightmares were coming true," I muttered.  
"It must've had something to do with that chip," Scaramouche said and she picked up the broken pieces and threw them out. "They probably monitor dreams now, too."

"Shit. They probably have plans now to sabotage everything. The concert, the Hotel... us..."

"No, no. Don't think that," Layne said, trying to comfort me for minutes on end.

After a while, I suddenly replied, "Where's my brother?"

"Right here."

Gaz came in and rushed over to me while I buried my face into his shoulder again.

"You okay?" He asked nervously.

"Yeah but be careful. I'm still in pain."

(To be continued...)


	14. Chapter 14

Part 14

I never had a father. He left my mum and my brother months before I was even born. He was lucky, I guess. He didn't have to watch us grow up into GaGa rejects...he left for bigger and brighter things, like being a fifthassistant to some queen. I don't know. I never really paid any attention to what my mother said about him...just that she despised him so much.

There's abig agedifference between Gaz and I. And I've always looked up to him not just as my big brother, but my best friend as well. We had been best friends up until that day. The day he decided to rebel and hear "words".

And here I was again with my brother...acting like a defenseless little child clinging for a sense of security and comfort from a loud storm. I did feel defenseless, but I wasn't that much of a little kid. But that was just my current mentality. I just couldn't believe that I was near death again, and that the guy wanted to take advantage of me. At least Scaramouche got in the way and saved me from the perv. She didn't have to, but she stepped in anyway. I guess whatever grudge we had between each other was over now. It wasn't worth it.

I stared down at my sheet music and started to sing a part of the song again:

_"Can I have everyone's attention please?  
If you're not like this and that, you're gonna have to leave  
I came from the mountain  
The crust of creation  
My whole situation-made from clay to stone  
And now I'm telling everybody  
I don't want to be  
Anything other than what I've been trying to be lately  
All I have to do  
Is think of me and I have peace of mind..."_

-----------

I placed the side of my head on Layne's shoulder and held his hand in the dark like a little kid. My palm was sweating, and I kept waiting for him to push it away angrily. But he didn't. Somehow, he understood my pain...of being attacked and nearly killed. I had been attacked by a spy, Layne had probably been beaten up once or many times by the GaGa kids, so he understood deeply. He even cared...everyone else did. It's what made the Heartbreak stronger.

I felt Layne's hand on the back of my head as he used his fingers to massage it gently. I told him to be careful since it still hurt from the pain, and he promised. He was the second guy to say that he "promised". My brother was the first when I was little, when he promised never to leave me but did. Layne was the second to promise not to rub too hard on the bump of my head.

"I won't," he replied as he gently touched the back of my neck and kissed my forehead.

My mind was lost. I wanted to sing and practice, but I didn't have the strength. I wanted to be close to someone who cared. He was it. I didn't know what to think anymore until Layne stated...

"I wanna marry you."

I looked over at Layne in confusion and asked, "Why?"  
"So I can protect you, that's why," he answered lightly.

"What about-"

"You wouldn't need to always hang around your brother. Maybe for his permission to marry I guess. And he's got Scaramouche now, y'know?"

I kept my head down on his shoulder as he continued to talk.

"It's not as if you're betraying him or leaving. We're still in the same area. But...I love you. I wanna protect you, Jimi."

He then handed me some sort of bracelet that looked plain but it glistened under the lights.

"I wanted to give this to you the last time, but I never had the chance. So…will you accept my proposal? Please?"

I gazed at him and replied, "Yes."

(To be continued…)


	15. Chapter 15

Part 16

Everyone was there for the weddingceremony and concert. My brother, Scaramouche, Meat, and the rest of the bohemians. Pop, whom I never met before, decided to do the "marital duties" as some sort of priest, and asked if he could give the bride a good luck kiss. Of course, the answer was "shut it".

Layne and I were both a bit nervous, but in a good way. We both knew that we wanted to spend the rest of our lives with each other through thick and thin, and that the love would never die.

The reception was followed by the concert, and my brother and I both rocked hard for the crowd.

Before I could leave the stage, my brother stopped me and replied, "Layne has a gift for ya."  
"Does he now?" I asked.

I saw Layne walk over to the piano bench with a guitar and some sheet music, and he started with some lyrics from the singer I studied from my last song:

_This is the start of something good  
Don't you agree?  
I haven't felt like this in so many moons  
You know what I mean?  
And we can build through this destruction  
As we are standing on our feet  
So, since you want to be with me  
You'll have to follow through  
With every word you say  
And I, all I really want is you  
You to stick around  
I'll see you everyday  
But you have to follow through  
You have to follow through  
These reeling emotions they just keep me alive  
They keep me in tune  
Oh, look what I'm holding here in my fire  
This is for you  
Am I too obvious to preach it?  
You're so hypnotic on my heart  
So, since you want to be with me  
You'll have to follow through  
With every word you say  
And I, all I really want is you  
You to stick around  
I'll see you everyday  
But you have to follow through  
You have to follow through  
The words you say to me are unlike anything  
That's ever been said  
And what you do to me is unlike anything  
That's ever been  
Am I too obvious to preach it?  
You're so hypnotic on my heart  
So, since you want to be with me  
You'll have to follow through  
With every word you say  
And I, all I really want is you  
(For) you to stick around  
I'll see you everyday  
But you'll have to follow through  
With every word you say  
An I, all I really want is you  
(For) you to stick around  
I'll see youeveryday  
But you have to follow through  
You have to follow through  
You're gonna have to follow---  
Oh, this is the start of something good  
Don't you agree?"_

Everyone cheered as I tackled Layne in a huge hug, and more cheers erupted as we both kissed for as long as we could.

(End)


End file.
